


Rocking Horse

by moxay



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Dry Humping, M/M, parental incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxay/pseuds/moxay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared's always wanted to be a dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rocking Horse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for (and reposted from) [this prompt](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/64480.html?thread=20416992#t20416992) on the kink meme, although I didn't follow it super accurately because I'm lame and misread it ;~;

Jared’s always wanted to be a dad.

Ever since he was little, when all of his friends were hammering at plastic nails and making explosion noises while they threw their army men around, Jared was stealing his baby sister’s dolls and pretending to sing them to sleep. His family had never had any problem with it; in hindsight, he can only marvel at how blessed he was to have been born into possibly the only family in Texas that didn’t mind their son playing with baby dolls.

The kids at school teased him about it, and when his friends grew out of playing with their action figures, he, too, outgrew rocking his dolls back and forth and pretending to feed them their plastic peas and carrots. The idea, though, never left. All through middle school, and high school, and college, he never wavered even a bit on his desire to be a father. When his long-time girlfriend approached him with shaky hands and tears in her eyes, he’d thought that she was sick, or that someone had died-- but she wasn’t, and no one had, and he doesn’t think he’s ever smiled harder than he did when she told him that they were going to have a baby. He’d immediately scooped her up carefully, hugging her as much as he’d dared without putting too much pressure on her stomach. He hadn’t set her down for more than a second before he was making happy, ridiculous faces at her flat stomach and kissing her skin while she laughed and pet his hair.

She was pregnant, and Jared was happy. When she started to show, he was happy, and when they discovered that it was a boy, he was overjoyed. He read every book he could find, bought as many nursery-related items he could get his hands on, and listened to more e-books about childhood development in two months than he’d collectively listened to music in his entire life.

It was all a flurry of smiles and singing too loudly and spinning around in the kitchen until, quite suddenly, he found himself looking through a glass window at his squirming son while a solemn nurse talked to him about “complications” and “unforeseen circumstances”. His world came crashing down around him, the hospital crumbling into dust, because while he always knew he would be a father, he had never in all his musings imagined that he would be doing it alone.

The weight of it all is terrible, and he can’t help but think that she-- she never even got to get married. He was going to propose before all this, but once the news came out, neither of them had wanted a shotgun wedding. So they had decided to wait, and they went to dress shops so she could run her fingers over the white satin, but she wanted to wait until they were engaged before she tried anything on. He asks, numbly, if she got to see him before she died, and the nurse nods.

He holds his son for the first time, and he opens his wide, wide eyes, and Jared thinks, _This is the last thing she saw before she left._ Staring down at his son’s face, Jared thinks that if he were to die, he would be glad that it was the last face he saw.

“What’s his name?” The nurse asks from over his shoulder.

Jared smiles at his son, who smiles back at him. This is who he has left; this is his world now, narrowed down to a bundle in a blue hospital blanket.

“Jensen,” he says, and the nurse hums her approval.

Jared leans in to rub his nose against Jensen’s, and Jensen laughs for the first time.

===

Jared does his best to keep Jensen laughing his entire life. Jared can only imagine the pain of watching your child die before your eyes, but if there was a way he could manage it, he’d stay alive twenty years longer as long as it meant that he could make Jensen laugh in his last few sentence. As it is, Jared only hopes that he has something clever to say with his last breath, and he, too, can die with Jensen’s smiling face as the last thing he ever sees.

Jensen’s laugh is the best thing Jared’s every heard: it bursts out of him always unexpectedly, bright and colorful and amazing. Jensen’s gotten much quieter around Jared recently, although Jared’s never mistaken this as some deep mystery. Jensen is growing up, and sometimes being fourteen (and now fifteen) means that you snap and you yell and you get angry at tiny things. Jared knows this, remembers it from when he was a teenager himself. Jensen shouts and slams doors as much as Jared did, and even if sometimes he makes Jared want to put a hole in the wall, he never lets it show, because Jensen’s sunny, sunny laugh makes every stupid argument more than worth it. It lights up Jared’s life; he doesn’t know what he’d do without it.

But the thing is this: when someone is your entire world, you have to be there for them when they aren’t up for laughing.

When Jensen doesn’t say anything during dinner and cleans his plate without being told to, Jared suspects that tonight might be one of those nights.

“Jensen--”

Jensen freezes by the sink, his back turned to Jared. Slowly and carefully, he places his plate in the drying rack and walks out of the kitchen, leaving the water running. Jared frowns and stands up, not bothering to grab his own mess before he follows his son, flicking the tap off as he passes the sink.

Jensen is already at the top of the stairs by the time Jared gets out of the kitchen, running into his room and slamming the door shut. Jared follows after him, making sure to stomp loudly on the stairs so that Jensen knows he’s coming. It’s an old habit, but Jensen’s always seemed to appreciate it.

When he reaches Jensen’s door, he presses his ear to the door, listening for noises that just aren’t coming out of the room. No heavy breathing, no sobs, nothing. Jared has always made sure that Jensen could come to him with his problems, so if something was wrong with Jensen, he’d always been comfortable telling Jared.

_Maybe I’m just imagining things._

“Jen?” Jared raps his knuckles lightly against the wood of the door. “You okay?”

There’s no response for a moment, and Jared is about to ask again when Jensen’s voice, tiny and cracking and barely there, floats through the door.

“I’m fine, Dad.”

Except Jensen _isn’t_ fine, because his voice is thick and wet-sounding, the way it gets when he’s been crying, and if Jensen was _fine_ , he wouldn’t be trying to hide it from Jared. Someone’s hurt Jensen badly enough that he doesn’t feel like he can talk to him. Jared clenches his jaw, furious at this nameless person who did this. He takes a deep breath, shaking himself out of his anger, and pushes the door open softly.

The lights are off, but the light from the doorway sends a line of bright yellow light into the room, illuminating Jensen, knees tucked to his chest, arms resting on top of his knees and creating a pillow for his forehead. Jared shuts the door and pads across the room in his bare feet, the light _scratch_ of his jeans brushing against the carpet the only noise in the room. When Jared climbs onto the bed, Jensen tenses, but doesn’t move away, which Jared guesses is a good sign. Jared places his hand carefully at the top of Jensen’s spine, and Jensen flinches, pulling away and turning so that he’s facing Jared. It’s hard to see much when the room is lit only by the moonlight wandering in from outside, but the tear tracks marking Jensen’s face catch the light easily enough.

Jensen looks like he’s about to fall apart, and Jared’s heart breaks for his son.

“Oh, Jen, sweetheart.” He lifts his hand up and cups Jensen’s cheek, swiping some of the tears away with his thumb. Jensen closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “What’s wrong?”

Jensen opens his eyes, so bright with tears that a hint of green is somehow peeking out even with so little light to grant them color. He stares at Jared, and Jared doesn’t push him, waiting for his answer. After a moment, Jensen swallows audibly and pulls his face out of Jared’s palm. Jared has to suppress the urge to put his hand back exactly where it was.

“Just,” Jensen clears his throat. “Just having boy problems, is all.”

Jared frowns a little at that. Jensen’s always been open about his sexuality, but he’s never actually had any boy problems to deal with, so far as Jared’s heard. Even with that, he can’t understand how any boy would hurt his Jensen so much that he couldn’t talk to him about it.

Then again, maybe the fact that this was the first time was what had Jensen so wrecked.

“You want to talk about it?” Jared murmurs.

Jensen shakes his head so quickly and tightly that it could almost be a tremor.

Jared pauses for a moment, then scoots back, resting his back against the headboard and stretching his legs out a bit. He pats the tops of his thighs and tries to grin at Jensen, but it’s a little difficult to smile when the most important person in the world is sitting three feet away and still looks like he’s trying not to cry.

“C’mere,” he says, and Jensen jolts like he’s been shocked.

“What?” He asks, like they haven’t done this a million times before. They did it just last week, when Jensen was stressing about a big test.

Jared sighs dramatically and darts forward, grabbing Jensen’s wrist and quickly pulling him back. Before Jensen has a second to react, Jared has him situated in their usual way: chests pressed together, Jensen’s head tucked into Jared’s shoulder, Jensen straddling Jared’s thighs. Jared reaches up and runs his fingers through Jensen’s hair, rubbing circles in Jensen’s back with his other hand.

“There now, don’t you feel better?”

Jensen mumbles something that might be a ‘yes’ and might be a ‘shove off, old man’. Either way, as soon as Jared starts to hum and sway back and forth, Jensen melts into him, wrapping his arms around Jared’s middle.

After a moment, Jensen wiggles a little in spot, trying to get comfortable, and Jared’s dick starts to get ideas. Jensen doesn’t seem to notice, so Jared tries to ignore it and goes back to swaying. The more he sways, though, the more Jensen seems to accidentally start moving with the motions, pressing down against him and-- it’s not that he’s trying to make it happen (despite what a former friend had insinuated when they were told that he sometimes rocks his fifteen-year-old son to sleep, Jared would never, ever hurt Jensen, especially not like that). It’s just that Jensen is an oh-so-warm body that’s very accidentally grinding against Jared’s hard-on, and surely no one could blame Jared for his body’s involuntary response.

Jared clears his throat and shifts a little, hitching his hips to try and adjust his jeans. Instead of lifting up and out of the way, as Jared had assumed he would, Jensen bears down, grinding down on him, knocking a quiet moan loose from Jared’s lips.

Jensen muffles a noise against Jared’s neck and rolls his hips again, again, and holy shit, Jensen is hard, too. Practically of their own volition, Jared’s hands start to wander, one tightening in Jensen’s hair, and the other straying down, down, down, until he can cup Jensen’s ass in his palm. Jensen pants open-mouthed against Jared’s skin, and Jared starts grinding up, pressing their cocks together through their pants in some grab for friction. Jensen’s hands come back around, his fingers mapping out Jared’s stomach before one of them reaches back, grabbing Jared’s hand and pressing it harder on the back of Jensen’s jeans. Jared takes the hint, pulls Jensen tighter against him and digs his fingers into the crease in the denim. Jensen gasps, grinding down harder against Jared, and Jared is suddenly slapped with the fact that this is _Jensen_ , his son, his baby, mouthing at his neck, humping forwards onto Jared’s cock and backwards into his hand.

“Jen,” he gasps, and that seems to be enough for Jensen, because Jared can feel him pumping his come into his jeans even through the denim and the thin material of Jared’s sweatpants.

Jensen slumps against him, and Jared comes to his senses, panic flooding him as he realizes what he’s just done.

He just hopes that Jensen can forgive him.

“Jen?” He whispers, almost afraid of the response.

The only answer he gets is a soft snore.

Jared huffs out a relieved laugh and pulls Jensen into a tighter hug, burying his face in his son’s neck.

Sleep is a welcome distraction.


End file.
